


we made a garden of the love we found

by moodyreindeer



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Buck Gets a Backstory, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Domestic Bliss, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Use of Terms of Endearments, Light Angst, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-22 15:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21304508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodyreindeer/pseuds/moodyreindeer
Summary: Buck has issues. Eddie loves him anyway.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 20
Kudos: 519





	we made a garden of the love we found

**Author's Note:**

> title from honeybee by the head and the heart
> 
> little bit of angst because i had to, but mostly fluff. eddie is a HUGE romantic and buck is kinda into it.

Buck’s father had a theory.

He used to say, usually after no prompting and to an uncomfortable audience, that civil service was field meant for the unwanted.

“All this fanfare over a man who chose to throw his life away,” he raged after a news report covering an apartment fire. The fire had only claimed one life - a young recruit who had gone in to save a trapped single mother against his captain’s orders. The mother only made it out because he pushed her out a window in time. “It’s ridiculous. We don’t celebrate suicides. That man knew what he was signing up for the minute he signed up to join the academy, and they’re crying over him like it’s some big, unexpected loss. All this money for funeral costs wouldn’t be wasted if they just trained the vagrants. Get them off the streets and train them to be useful.”

He didn’t feel the same way for police officers or paramedics - his strong, passionate disdain only seemed to be for firefighters, and no one ever figured out why, nor did anyone have the guts to ask him.

With all the negative review the profession received while he grew up, the appeal it had to Buck was surprising, to say the least. He couldn’t help it; something about the adrenaline, the way the world narrows down to the fire, the victims, the pulsing need to survive, was desirable in a way other fields never were.

Maddie tried to convince him to take another career path. Follow in her footsteps, become a nurse, or even a police officer. She was trying to spare him from the inevitable rejection that would come with being a firefighter, the transformation from a stony silence to a bitter, harsh abandonment.

Buck, ever the optimist, still called his parents when he graduated from the academy and was assigned the firehouse he was to spend his probationary period in.

It had only been a month since he’d settled into LA. He’d spent the past six months bartending in South America, bouncing from tourist bar to tourist bar, saving up the money for a shitty LA apartment. His father hadn’t liked that gig, either, but thought throwing himself around foreigners would shake some sense into him.

He got home to his shared condo, locked himself in his room so his three other roommates wouldn’t overhear the conversation. His mother had been so surprised to his voice after so long, and was even more shocked when he asked to be put on speaker. He almost never wanted to speak to his father when he called Hershey.

“I’m going to be a firefighter!” he pushed out all in one breath. He was dizzy with excitement, with the future he had, all the potential lives he was going to save. His hands were shaking with it, his heart trying to vibrate out of his body.

The other line went silent for several minutes, dragging out like roadkill caught underneath a car.

“Oh, _ honey_,” his mother whispered. She was crestfallen.

Buck felt his eyes welling up at just the sound of it. No matter how cruel his father could be, disappointing his mother was the quickest way to reduce him to tears. 

Some shuffling occurred - he could picture his mother walking away, going to lock herself in the master bedroom like she always did when he did something wrong, and just the picture of it in his head had tears spilling over.

He furiously wiped them from his cheeks, angry at himself, grasping for that boundless excitement he had only moments ago.

“Dad?” he called out, voice small, hopeful.

A pause. Then:

“This is without a doubt the stupidest thing you have ever done.”

The line went dead.

Buck didn’t come out of his room for days after that phone call, not until he had to get ready for his first day at station 118.

* * *

Slowly but surely, Buck shed the person he used to be. Some things stayed the same: he still loves children - the calls that involved kids were either his favorite or broke his heart, depending on what type of situation they were called to. He still hates being called by his first name, and tries to shut that down as soon as possible. He still likes being surrounded by people more than being alone. He doesn’t think these things will ever change.

But the stuff that has changed has been major. He’s more confident, especially with people. He’s now the type of person who makes the first move, which high school him never would have done. He’s mouthier, cockier, plays off seriousness and always tries to make a moment lighter. His new blasé attitude has made sex easier, and relationships in general because he tries not to have them. Just hook-ups, one night stands, quickies in bathrooms of dimly lit bars. Life is easier that way.

Then Abby Clark enters the picture, and Buck finds himself yearning for a life he never considered before.

The type of life that meant romantic dates, big gestures, proud declarations of love - a life that had him coming home to someone at the end of the day.

Then she left, leaving him alone again, and it became abundantly clear that the universe had no such life in store for him. 

Then Eddie Diaz happens.

Eddie’s arrival was an issue for several reasons. One, he settled into life so seamlessly at the station that Buck began to worry about his place. It was an old childish fear, but it dug itself out of the recesses of his mind and pushed its way to the forefront upon seeing the easy camaraderie and impressive army reputation the older man brought to the table.

_ Do they still like me? _ a small voice, sounding a lot like his younger self, asked as he watched Hen and Chimney laugh and bump shoulders with this newcomer.

Secondly, Buck didn’t have the greatest record with guy friends. Chimney was different because he was older and didn’t see them in the same league at all. Bobby was different for the same reasons, and he was also the captain, so friendship was always second. But back in Pennsylvania, guys always accepted Buck in at arm’s length, only keeping him around to measure themselves against him. Were they hotter than him, getting more dates, getting more laughs? It was always a competition, but Buck stayed around them because he had no other options.

Eddie was different. He didn’t see Buck as competition or a threat. He was older, but not enough to upheave their common ground. He treated Buck like he actually cared about his feelings, and was kind to him, and this was such a change from what Buck was used to that he was stumbling, looking for the trick that had to be lurking underneath the nice facade. 

But the biggest reason Eddie Diaz posed an issue was because Buck found himself undeniably attracted to him. He’s good-looking, jaded and quiet and holds his heart close to his chest. Upon first seeing him Buck could just brush off the attraction as the basic recognition of someone being handsome, but the more he comes to know him, the more their friendship grows, the more Eddie unearths a part of him Buck has tried to keep buried for years.

Naturally, Buck does everything in his power to avoid these feelings ever reaching the surface.

He haunts his ex-girlfriend’s apartment, clinging to a relationship that no longer exists; he throws himself into a relationship with Ali, who is hot and funny and travels a lot, requiring the bare minimum of Buck, which is all he’s looking for, really, when it comes down to it. A nice girl who doesn’t expect much from him in return for kissing and sex. 

Then he nearly dies underneath a fire truck, and Ali moves on to someone whose job doesn’t involve nearly dying on a daily basis, and Buck is back to where he was before. Alone.

He tries not to think about it, which isn’t that hard a feat. He has physical therapy to do, his certification test to prepare for, people to imprint his memory onto so they don’t forget about him even though he’s technically not their teammate anymore.

Really, he’s a very busy person.

In these tumultuous five months, the only constant he has is Eddie. Eddie with food in tow; Eddie bringing Christopher over, itching for a playdate; Eddie when he needs a spot for his at-home leg exercises; Eddie when he needs a voice on the phone to cry to when the pain wakes him up in the middle of the night. Eddie cements himself into Buck’s life, becoming a permanent fixture when Buck isn’t paying attention.

Then the tsunami happens. Or maybe it’s when Buck throws up blood and nearly succumbs to a pulmonary embolism. It’s hard to know because the events happened so close together, but one of them drives Eddie away. Not totally - he still brings Christopher over, despite the dreadful five hours where Buck had lost him and thought he was dead. He still sends the occasional check-up text, and answers the phone when Buck calls in the middle of the night. But he’s distant, drifting away the longer Buck is off the team.

For a while, Buck fears Eddie has caught on to his lingering gazes, his romantic daydreams, and is pulling himself away until he can find the words to let him down gently. But that fear vanishes when he sees Eddie standing so closely to Bosko, getting comfortable in the same way he used to be with Buck.

Eddie has no inclination of his feelings, he just wants a best friend who isn’t a cripple, who can be by his side in the field and actually have his back.

With renewed desperation, Buck fights. He begs Bobby for support and only gets a deep sense of betrayal for his efforts. Sad and overwhelmingly alone, Buck throws his trust behind a lawyer, the first person to say anything that’s remotely close to agreeing with Buck getting his job back.

As all his best intentions are wont to do, the entire situation blows up in his face. At the end of it all he’s out ten million, but he has his job back, albeit his team doesn’t trust him and his best friend hates him.

But when he walks into the firehouse, just the smell of it is enough to loosen the knot in his chest and ease some of the tension in his shoulders. He may be alone, but he is alone in his true home, and there are worse things.

He does what he’s supposed to. He cleans every inch of the station, obeys every order, holds his tongue and bides his time, but Bobby still sidelines him, and Eddie still discards him every chance he gets. Every olive branch he extends, Eddie snatches up and snaps in two. Every apology he utters is devoured by snappish insults.

On Halloween, Buck is bruised from the children’s abuse and the cold shoulder treatment. He snaps, losing the meek attitude and meeting his best friend’s eye, begging for reconciliation. Even though that’s what he’s hoping for, he’s shocked when he actually gets it.

“I forgive you. Just don’t do it again.”

They embrace, and it’s the lightest Buck has felt in months, but ends all too soon as the other man groans and moves away.

Buck frowns, and the ever present fear is louder than ever - _ does he know? is he disgusted? _ \- but Eddie grabs his shoulder and squeezes tight, gives him a smile that reaches his eyes.

As he watches Eddie leave, he can’t help but feel like he’s flying.

* * *

After Athena’s suspension, Buck takes the opportunity of having two experienced chefs hanging around the firehouse to learn how to cook a proper meal. He can handle basic things, but misses the homely meals of his childhood - rich meatloaf, heavily layered lasagna, seasoned roast and perfectly diced potatoes.

The couple is surprisingly agreeable, hijacking a Taco Tuesday to let Buck experiment with dinner for the team. They watch him like a hawk in the beginning, but they slowly wander away as it becomes clear he has no plans to diverge from the recipe in front of him. As Athena and Bobby idly supervise him from in front of the TV, Buck remains vigilant of the cookbook in front of him, triple checking everything before he adds it to the sizzling pan. It’s a simple recipe, a basic stir fry with grilled chicken cutlets, but Buck wants it to be perfect. 

He knows his team would eat it regardless, just to make him feel good about himself, but he wants to keep the heckling to a minimum.

He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice Eddie watching him until he looks up from chopping garlic and sees the older man leaning against the counter, watching him with a fond look in his eyes.

Buck startles, nearly dropping the knife, narrowly avoiding slicing his hand open.

“Did they send you over here to spy on me?” Buck asks, only half-kidding. “The chickens need five more minutes before I can even think about putting them in the oven.”

Eddie chuckles lightly. “No spying. I’m just a casual observer.” True to his word, he does nothing but watch as Buck adds in the garlic with the chicken and shuffles the pan. Once the garlic browns in the olive oil, he moves the chicken onto a pan, spritzes them with lemon juice and pepper, then puts them in the oven. It’s a long process because the pan is only big enough for two cutlets at a time, and there’s eight mouths to feed, but Buck is surprised by the calmness he feels, the lack of impatience. It’s a shockingly serene task, cooking for people to eat and enjoy.

He’s almost forgotten about Eddie’s presence as he checks to make sure the stir fry isn’t burning, until he says something:

“Have dinner with me.”

Buck looks up, brows creasing together. “What?”

“Have dinner with me,” Eddie repeats. He’s wearing a soft smile that melts Buck’s insides. “I miss you.”

Buck gives a nervous laugh; he can feel his face and ears burning.

“Chris is at _ abuela_’s for the weekend; my sister brought her boys in to visit because they’re on break.”

Buck finds himself having trouble swallowing; his mouth has gone mysteriously dry. “So it would be just the two of us?”

Eddie circles around the counter, leans beside the stove just close enough for Buck to feel the brush of his shirt sleeve but not his skin. “Yeah, just the two of us.”

Buck gives the pan a little shake, tossing the stir fry so it cooks all over. After a brief glance, he adds in some pepper.

“And this dinner,” he starts to ask, “would it be takeout pizza and beer on your couch or something a little fancier?” He turns his head to finally meet the older man’s eyes. The brown eyes have gone dark with something heated. “I don’t want to come underdressed.” He’s teasing, but not really.

Eddie shrugs, mouth quirking up in a way Buck guesses is supposed to look playful, but lands closer to seductive.

“I was thinking pasta, wine.” He leans over to whisper conspiratorially in Buck’s ear. “Candles if you’re lucky.”

Buck gives an involuntary shiver. 

Eddie retreats into his own space, tucks his hand into his pockets with an impish grin. “So, what do you say? My place on Friday night?”

Buck forces himself to remain casual, going for an easy smile. “I’ll be there at 7:00.”

Eddie beams, clapping him on the shoulder. 

Buck’s first attempt at a station dinner go off without a hitch. The cutlets are moist and perfectly seasoned, the stir fry unburnt. 

He tries to soak in all the praise, to dig into his own plate and enjoy the success, but Eddie is sitting next to him close enough for their thighs to touch the entire meal; he feels like he’s being burned alive.

* * *

Friday night arrives too soon for Buck’s liking. Having only slept five hours after a thirty-six hour shift the days before, he’s overcome by a delirious panic as he stands in front of his closet in nothing but his boxer briefs.

Part of himself is convinced Eddie was just joking about the dinner’s ambiance, but he wants to dress the part nonetheless. He knows that he could show up in his most tattered, worn clothes and Eddie wouldn’t care, would still let him in, but it’s about more than playing a role.

A small, scarcely listened to part of him knows the real reason the clothes need to be perfect - it’s proof that he can play the part of the doting boyfriend. Romantic, sensual, mature - proof to Eddie that he could be a good partner if given a chance, and proof to himself that really does want more out of someone than good, meaningless sex.

With time running out, he settles on a button-up and dark jeans with a navy blazer Maddie teases makes him look like an accountant.

The drive passes quicker than he’s used to, and before he can truly calm his nerves he’s standing on Eddie’s porch, giving a light knock.

Instantly the door opens, like the older man stood there awaiting his arrival.

Blessedly, Eddie looks equally formal in black jeans and a white polo that Buck’s never seen before. The sight makes Buck go dry, his brain spinning at how this could all be for him.

Eddie shoots him a wolfish grin, stepping aside to let him in. “You clean up nice. All for me?”

Buck gives a sly smile, feigning more confidence than he actually feels. “I dress to impress.”

Eddie leads him through the house to the dining room. Buck is surprised by the setup before him. True to his word, the older man lit candles and poured two glasses of wine, twin white candlesticks sitting in engraved candle holders in the middle of the table, wine glasses filled with red wine waiting patiently by empty plates.

A hand settles on the small of his back.

“You look shocked,” Eddie murmurs. Buck can hear the smile in his voice.

Buck blinks, his brain finally catching up with how he hasn’t breathed in a couple seconds and probably should. “I just - you really have candles and wine.”

A low chuckle makes heat pool in his gut. “Did you think I was joking?”

Buck swallows around his tongue, which suddenly feels three sizes too big. “Kinda, yeah.”

Eddie steps around him, smiling with a confused crinkle in his brow that Buck wants to smooth out with his finger. He doesn’t because he can feel sweat dripping off his hands and doesn’t want to kill the mood of the evening when he’s just arrived.

“I thought I was being obvious,” Eddie says with a coy lift of his mouth. “Empty house, romantic dinner, missing you...”

Now that he thinks back on it, Eddie’s eyes had been a little too dark and lusty when he invited Buck over to just be looking for some quality guy time.

“Is this okay?” Eddie scans his face; his hand is still resting on the small of Buck’s back, making his skin tingle even through his clothes. This close Buck can see the seven different shades of brown the candle light turns Eddie’s eyes. Most importantly he can see the depths of concern and tenderness swimming within them. 

Buck remembers how to work his arms, pulling them up to rest on Eddie’s hips.

“I’m sure,” he says, wobbly but certain. “I just...don’t think you have to do this for me if you don’t really - ”

Eddie leans forward, cutting him off by pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth.

“Buck,” he fondly whispers, “it’s okay. I want you.”

Once he presses his mouth firmly to Buck’s, pulling him so close that their chests touch, there isn’t much talking after that.

* * *

Buck loves the beginning of relationships. He loves the shininess - everything is sweet and cute and wonderful, all about learning each other’s favorite places to be kissed, favorite way to be held, favorite way to show someone you love them.

He’s always a little disappointed when it fades. It lasts two, maybe three months tops, then the familiarity sets in and the lingering, eager touches fade and some of the passion trickles out until each kiss is less electric and exciting than it first was.

With Ali, the honeymoon phase ended almost as soon as their relationship started. She traveled for work so much, and the nights she was in town she was jet-lagged and he was working, that not touching was almost more comfortable than wrapping their arms around each other.

With Eddie, it’s different. They see each other all the time, more of their daily lives spent together than not, and Buck has a nagging fear that seeing each other everyday will make the magic fade even sooner than it did with Ali. But if anything, their honeymoon phases lasts even longer. Hen and Chimney bounce between cooing over them and pretending to gag when they come up the steps, hands interlocked. Buck lets the good-natured teasing roll off his back, but finds himself flicking a worried gaze at Eddie from time to time, knowing that sometimes barbs land a little harder than they’re meant to.

Buck doesn’t worry for long, though. With each fake kiss Chimney blows their way and every eye roll Hen shoots them when their lips brush, Eddie beams like he’s won the lottery and pulls Buck as close as possible.

Buck is pleasantly surprised by all the physical attention. He thought he had a good gauge of how much a partner would physically give him and prepared himself for Eddie being hesitant or shy with tactile affections. He has seen the way Eddie is with Chris: sweeping him into tight hugs, ruffling his hair, kissing any part of his face he could reach. That he understood because he does the same thing; it was impossible to _ not _ want to smother the sweet kid in hugs and kisses the moment you met him.

But Buck didn’t realize he would be getting the same treatment when they officially called themselves an exclusive relationship. A son and a boyfriend are different kinds of love, after all. He expected kisses, shoulder grazing, maybe even a little bit of hand-holding if they could put up with the fake puking noises Hen and Chimney made in the background. Nothing as easy and often as the way Eddie expressed his love to Christopher, but coming from Eddie, even small gestures held infinite meaning.

He didn’t realize, however, Eddie would be even more touch-hungry than he was.

He first notices when they’re driving to work together. It’s become a routine since they got together. Buck’s apartment is on the way to the station from Christopher’s school anyway - it just makes sense.

They are two weeks into their relationship, still deeply in the honeymoon phase, when Buck casually slipped his hand over Eddie’s where it rested on the gearshift. He’s often the one to initiate contact, but Eddie always reciprocates it in kind. Still, cautious, not wanting to end a good thing too soon, Buck tries to keep the touching to a casual, flirty minimum.

He anticipates what happens next; Eddie flips his hand to interlock their fingers and squeezes. He does _not _anticipate what follows.

As Buck prattles on about Maddie being stuck in her ways, refusing to go to this new Indian place he’s been dying to try, Eddie brings their locked hands up to press a kiss to the back of his hand, then presses their hands to his heart, seeming content to leave them there.

Buck chokes on his own spit.

Eddie glances away from the road long enough to give him a funny glance.

“You okay, _ mi amor_?” he asks with a bemused smile.

Buck takes a minute to suck in a refreshing lungful of air before responding. “Yeah, uh, just took in some air wrong, I guess.”

His answer is unconvincing even to him, but Eddie simply laughs and turns his attention back to the road. Still clutching their hands over his heart.

Buck’s hand feels warm and tingly the rest of the day, long after Eddie drops him off at the entrance to park the truck, and Hen and Chimney mercilessly mock the goofy smile that dominates his face.

But he’s flying so high, he can’t even summon the brainpower to care.

* * *

Months pass since that moment. They are well out of their honeymoon phase and reaching the four-month mark, the longest relationship Buck’s ever had with a person where each day feels just as bright and warm as the first.

Eddie remains as physically doting as he was the first weeks of their relationship. Buck revels in it, but he is also thrown majorly off-kilter with every new display of affection Eddie gives him. Even though he wants to fully immerse himself in it, he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Eddie to feel stifled or panicked and put distance between them.

That dreadful moment never comes.

Once, when Buck was cleaning dishes after a family dinner at the station, Eddie swooped in behind him and stuck his hand in Buck’s back pocket.

Another time, as they laid in bed, cherishing the moments before they had to get Christopher ready for school, Eddie slipped a hand underneath Buck’s shirt and pressing down on his heart, curling closer like a cat.

More times than Buck can count, Eddie would fall beside him at the firehouse, making one hand at home underneath his shirt on the small of his back while his lips pressed firm kisses to his neck, his cheek, his jaw, anywhere on Buck’s face he could reach.

Time keeps passing and the touches keep coming, and Buck can feel himself begin to spiral into a deep panic.

Eddie and Christopher are the best thing to ever happen to him. After spending years as a pariah with his biological family, then the recent rockiness of the lawsuit with his firehouse, Buck’s biggest fear is doing something to make Eddie realize Buck isn’t what he wants, that he doesn’t want Christopher getting too close to someone who might just leave again.

Buck has no intentions of leaving, but he wonders - as Eddie kisses his fingertips, licks his tongue over his pulse, runs his hand through his hair, rubs his thumb over the back of his neck - if Eddie will get sick of catering to his physical needs. If Eddie will realize he’s too exhausting to love, to maintain a relationship with, and cut his losses before either of them can get any deeper.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone left him because he isn’t what they wanted.

* * *

It’s a rare Saturday morning where they are completely alone. No work, Christopher’s at a friend’s sleepover, isn’t due to be picked up for hours. They spend the morning in bed, pressed skin to skin underneath the blanket, soaking in the warm sun that spills in from the window.

“Can I ask you a question?” Buck mumbles into the warm skin of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie’s chest rumbles with a fond laugh. “Anything, _ cariño_.” 

He tries to think of how to say it. Pulling himself up, he crosses his arms over Eddie’s broad chest and leans his head against them, looking at the stubble stretching over his jaw; in the morning sunlight, the scruff looks bronze instead of coal black.

“Have you always been - like, in every other relationship you had, were you always so...touchy?”

Something flashes in Eddie’s eyes, fading before Buck can really name it. The older man shifts, about to pull away, so Buck panics and more firmly shifts his weight on top of him, trapping him underneath his body.

“I didn’t mean I didn’t like it,” the younger man insists. “I just never saw you so physical with anyone but Christopher.” He traces his finger around an almost perfectly circular scar near Eddie’s collarbone. Shrapnel, if he remembers correctly. “Were you like this with Shannon, too?”

Eddie sucks in a breath, not a gasp - more like he’s been accidentally elbowed in the stomach.

Buck, immediately feeling guilty, goes to pull away, ducking his head. “Sorry, sorry I even said anything. It doesn’t even matter - I’m just being stupid -” 

“Hey, you are _ not _ stupid.” The sharpness of Eddie’s tone catches him off guard, and Buck can only manage to stare as Eddie frowns up at him. He reaches up to cup Buck’s face in his hands. Buck’s eyes flutter closed when a thumb starts gently tracing his bottom lip. “You’re perfect.”

Buck snorts. “Hm, I think our team would disagree.”

Eddie keeps frowning, eyes narrowing. “Baby, I know we tease you sometimes but no one thinks you’re stupid. I can tell them to stop if it’s becoming an issue.”

Buck groans, dropping his head so he can bury his face in the warm skin of Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s not about the team, it’s just - ugh, can we drop this? My emotional baggage is killing the mood.”

A hand glides soothingly through his hair. “You couldn’t kill the mood even if you tried,” Eddie murmurs, his voice the perfect balance of comforting and desire-laced that makes Buck shudder.

They lay in silence for a while, long enough for the hand in his hair to make Buck feel sleepy, long enough he’s even forgotten he’s asked a question, when Eddie softly speaks.

“When Shannon and I first started dating, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I guess that’s what I missed the most when she got pregnant - with all the mood swings and stress with preparing for Chris she felt suffocated, and touching her, trying to comfort her only put her more on-edge. Then, when Chris was finally here, I got scared, signed up for another tour. And when I got back - it was only weeks before she left us.” The hand in his hair slips down to his back, dancing up and down the knobs of his spine. “I didn’t realize how much I liked all the couple PDA until I found myself being so excited to touch you.”

Buck feels himself warming all over, loosening underneath Eddie’s firm touch, the sweet caress of his fingers. He turns his head so he can look at Eddie’s face, and is pleasantly surprised to see the older man already fondly gazing down at him.

Eddie uses the other arm wrapped around the blond’s waist to pull him farther, until his lips can ghost against his ear.

“Hold you hand, kiss you breathless, play with your hair.” A gentle finger comes up to brush his birthmark; Buck shivers. “Love every part of you.”

Buck licks his lips, tilting his head further into Eddie’s touch as he tries to string together a coherent sentence before his brain completely dissolves into a lustful puddle.

“So - so you do like touching me?” Buck strangles out as Eddie’s lips start trailing down his neck. “You’re not just doing it for me, right? You get something out of it too?”

Eddie’s body rumbles as he lets out a deep chuckle. “Yeah, baby, I get something out of touching you.” One of Eddie’s callused hands finds Buck’s and drags beneath the sheet, leading it between his legs.

“Wanna see just how much you do to me?” Eddie mutters, breath hot against Buck’s ear.

Buck groans, blown pupils getting curtained by his eyelids as they slip shut.

Any other doubts he has dissipate into nothing as Eddie works him onto his back, molding their bodies into one.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hey on my [tumblr](http://spideypetes.tumblr.com).


End file.
